


Of Masks and Marriages

by gabeybabywhy



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe: DC Comics, Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Lovers, Frank is Dick Grayson, Kidnapping, M/M, Marriage, Organized Crime, Slow Burn, Violence, Yes there is a happy ending, but like in a casual way, kind of, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabeybabywhy/pseuds/gabeybabywhy
Summary: Frank is looking to make a new start of it away from Gotham and the chaos of his "normal" life. He's excited to finally be a regular guy, go to a regular school, and do regular things. Gerard has other ideas.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 76
Kudos: 74





	1. New Kid in Town

**Author's Note:**

> Hm well I can't guarantee that this AU makes any sense but it sure has been fun to write. Yes I am outing myself for reading way too much Nightwing, and what about it?

It had only been a week but so far Frank was loving Bludhaven. It was exactly the change of pace he needed. Nobody knew him here. He was soaking up the anonymity, appreciating what it was like to be nobody again. It certainly had been a while. The only one who knew him was Artemis, but she was cool. She was running from her own shit. Even though they were at the same school it’s not like they were taking all the same classes. Besides, she was half the reason the old man had agreed to this anyways. It was nice to know someone was spotting him. Just in case. Not that anything was going to happen.

They were sharing an apartment downtown, a couple blocks from campus. It was nice to not be in a dorm, and to be able to unwind without worrying about the other freshmen. Frank and Artemis didn’t have much in common with your average college kids. She hadn’t come home last night but Frank wasn’t all too worried. She came here to do the whole thing on her own this time; Frank just wanted to be on his own. He didn’t doubt he’d see her in their econ class, probably on her fourth cup of coffee.

He noticed the man following him almost immediately after he left their building. He wasn’t very good at it, keeping way too close to Frank and not even trying to blend in with the foot traffic around them. Frank waited until he went around a corner. When the guy came up behind him, he met him with a sharp kick to the stomach. He made a surprised oof and stumbled backward. Before he could regain his balance, Frank hit him hard in the face a couple of times and then swept out his legs.

“Yeah, I’d go mug someone else if I were you,” he said before turning around and continuing on his way, leaving the man bleeding on the ground.

He was surprised to find himself surrounded by a dozen thugs in big black suits less than a block later. One of them wrenched away his bag and Frank cursed. He didn’t like his odds without any of his gear. He was good but he wasn’t that good, especially since they were all packing heat. Still, he managed to take down four or five before they got ahold of him. One probably wasn’t going to walk again.

It didn’t make him feel better when he came around handcuffed to a chair in some industrial loft. The left side of his face was throbbing. If he had to guess, they were probably still downtown. His legs were unrestrained. It could be worse. The man who’d originally been following him was dabbing at his split lip with a handkerchief, standing in front of a table where the contents of Frank’s backpack was spread out. He could see his staff. It was only a handful of paces. It could be a lot worse. Although he’d still like to know who the fuck this guy thinks he is. 

Frank spat blood on the ground. “Who the fuck are you?”

The guy turned around, his face split into a wide grin. “Frankie, you’re awake!” 

Frank was well acquainted with half the loonies in Arkham. Frank knew crazy. This guy was fucking crazy. He could see it in his glassy, gleeful eyes.

“How do you know my name?” he asked more cautiously.

He giggled. “Been following you, silly.”

Frank wanted to smack himself. He must be slipping if he didn’t notice he had a stalker. 

“And why exactly have you been following me?”

The man walked closer to him. Good. Frank was almost out of his cuffs. 

“Cuz you’re gorgeous, darling.” He caught Frank by the chin and looked deeply into his eyes for a second. Frank could see the bruises slowly forming on his face with satisfaction.

Ok, that’s not the answer he was expecting. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? His cuffs clicked open finally, but Frank decided to wait to make his move. He needed to figure out what was going on here first.

“I’m only going to ask one more time. Who the fuck are you?”

He laughed again. “You’re funny Frankie. My name’s Gerard.”

“And?”

“I’m the heir to the top mob around here,” he said casually. “You’re new in town, aren’t you Frankie?”

Frank narrowed his eyes. “What family?”

Gerard looked surprised. It was becoming clear that Gerard didn’t know who he is. Or was. Whatever. “What?”

“What persuasion? What family? Which mob?” Frank was racking his brain. Bruce made him study all the crime families in Bludhaven before moving, but he hadn’t been paying much attention to first names. He couldn’t remember a Gerard.

“The Ways. You know, you’re nothing like I imagined Frankie. So bossy! And then there’s the matter of all your toys.” He gestured to the handful of weapons Frank had tucked away in his backpack. Fat lot of good they were.

“What does the mob want with me?” Frank was confused. Back in Gotham, he wouldn’t have to ask. He knew exactly what every criminal and crazy wanted to leverage him for. But Gerard clearly didn’t know, so what was going on?

“My father’s very sick, you see. He’s dying. It’s time for me to settle down.” Gerard’s smile was sharp enough to cut.

Frank’s eyes went wide with realization. Now it was his turn to laugh.

There was an old tradition within the families where they would kidnap a hostage, usually someone in their late teens, and force them into a marriage. It had gone out of vogue in Gotham after he and Bruce had broken up a couple of happy couples. The victims were seriously scary, brainwashed into thinking they were in love with their captors. It was weaponized Stockholm Syndrome. Apparently, the practice was alive and well down the river. Frank finally understood what he wanted from him. And boy, was he in for a surprise.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna fuckin happen. Not in a million years, man.”

“You seem to know a lot of things you shouldn’t, Frankie,” Gerard said with a little frown.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like how to spot a tail. Or snap the tendons in an elbow. And about our little tradition.”

“No, I’m pretty sure those all sound like things I should know,” he shook his head with a smile. “You wanna know why?” He dropped his voice conspiratorially.  
Gerard leaned in closer.

“Cuz I gotta deal with fuckers like you.”

In an instant, Frank was out of his chair. He grabbed Gerard’s head and slammed it down against his knee hard. Gerard let out a surprised yelp. It was loud, too loud. He could hear boots racing up the steps. He leapt over Gerard’s crumpled body to where his weapons were laid out. His tucked his staff into the back of his belt and scooped up his throwing stars, ready to hit whoever was coming through the door.

The first three men dropped barely two steps into the room. The next few were ready for the stars and managed to dodge. They rushed towards Frank. His staff whipped out to full length in his hands. He smiled at the crunch it made when it connected with a shoulder joint.

Someone shouted, “You ok boss?” Gerard didn’t respond. Frank hoped he was unconscious. He’d probably hit him hard enough.

More people were flooding into the room. There was a hiss as Frank dropped a smoke canister, quickly obscuring their vision. He picked them off one by one. It had been a while but it was still easy. Frank felt the adrenaline pulsing through his body. There was a splash of warm blood on his cheek. It was the best he’d felt in weeks.

Finally, the smoke began to clear. Frank was the only one still standing. He snapped his staff shut with a satisfying click. He began shoving his books back into his backpack. He went over and pulled his throwing stars out of the goons by the door with a wet squish. They had all been dead before they hit the floor. He tossed the stars into his bag and zipped it up. 

“Where did you say you were from, Frankie?”

Frank whipped around. Gerard was awake but he was slumped heavily against the leg of the chair. He had a wide-eyed look of realization that mimicked Frank’s moments ago.

“I didn’t.”

“You’re from Gotham. You’re Robin.” Gerard smiled. He looked ecstatic. It was unnerving.

Frank thought about killing him, but he was immobile. He desperately wanted to think he wasn’t that far gone. Instead he made his way to the window. They were on the third story.

“I strongly suggest we make this a one-time thing,” he said as he swung one leg out the window.

“That’s a straight drop.” There was awe in Gerard’s voice.

“Yeah,” said Frank. Gravity had little claim over him. He dropped silently out the window without another word.


	2. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Limping home.

His hunch had been right, they were still in the city. It was a ways from where they’d picked him up but he managed to find his way back to the apartment without much trouble. It was late afternoon. Frank groaned. He’d missed class.

He kept a sharp eye on his surroundings as he limped home. Nobody seemed to be following him. He was acutely aware that he had fucked up his ankle when one of the thugs stomped on it, and he probably had a couple of bruised ribs to boot. It could be worse. He could still be handcuffed to a chair. Or married to a psychopath. 

He had to shove his shoulder awkwardly against the door to get it to unstick. It didn’t feel great with his injuries. They really needed to invest in some WD-40. 

“Hey idiot, what’re you doing skipping class? It’s barely been a week,” Artemis called from the other room. So much for slipping in quietly. When Frank didn’t answer she ventured out of her room. “Oh shit,” she said when she saw his battered face. “What happened?”

“We got any splints?”

“Of course we have splints.” She rolled her eyes and offered him an arm. They limped into the bathroom together.

She started rifling through their medicine cabinet. It was obscenely well-stocked. Frank sat on the edge of the tub and rolled his jeans up to get a better look at his ankle.

“Why’d you go out without telling me? You know I would’ve gone with you.” There was a gleam in her eye. She excitedly asked, “Who’d you get?”

“I didn’t go out,” Frank snapped. “I told you, I’m done with that shit.”

“Right. So, you just got run over by a truck on your way to class then.” 

Frank sighed. “I got grabbed.”

“Grabbed? Who would want to grab you? No one here even knows you’re a billionaire’s kid, much less that billionaire’s kid.”

Frank shrugged off his shirt so she could take a look at his ribs. “Did Green Arrow or Bruce ever mention the series of mob busts we did around this time last year?”

She looked thoughtful as she poked hard at his torso. He sucked in a sharp breath and glared at her. “I think so. Something about brainwashing kids, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Forced marriages between wealthy bosses and kidnapped teenagers, manipulated into falling in love with them.”

“So?”

“So, apparently they still do that shit down here.”

“Wait, so you were…”

“Yep.”

“And they wanted to…”

“Mmhmm.” 

Artemis broke out into loud peals of joyous laughter. This was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her.

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”

“Sorry, sorry, I just- that’s so good. And they had no idea who you are?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure they do now.”

She snorted. “I guess that’s what you get for being such an irresistible twink.”

“I never said it was a guy,” Frank said indignantly.

“Was it?” She asked with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“I- I’m not answering that.”

“Uh-huh.”

After she was done laughing at him, they went ahead and set his ankle. It looked like just a sprain. Frank hobbled back into the kitchen.

“Here, I’ll make you some soup.”

“Thanks. How was your night last night?”

“Pretty average. It was just a stakeout, gathering intel. Didn’t run into a fight.”

“Who’re you watching?”

“Major drug operation controlling the harbor. Called the Way family, they’re pretty nasty from what I’ve seen.”

“No fucking way. Are you shitting me?”

“No, why would I be- wait, is that who grabbed you?”

Frank nodded. Artemis broke into fits of giggles again. He chucked a spoon at her head but she caught it.

“Well, it could be worse. Was it the eldest son?”

“Think so. Said his name was Gerard.”

“Mm, yeah, he’s cute. You sure know how to pick ‘em Boy Wonder.”

Frank glared at her. She knew he hated that nickname. “I didn’t pick him, he picked me. And he’s not cute.”

“Really, you don’t think so? He’s got that dark and mysterious thing going on. And he looks great in black. I would’ve thought you’d appreciate a guy who looks great in black, being a child of the night and all.”

“He’s a psychopath who kidnapped me.”

“Semantics.” She set the bowl down in front of him. “So, how’d he grab you? Was he just waiting in a populated area and you happened to breeze by, looking utterly irresistible?”  
Frank shook his head. “I don’t think so. He knew my name. Said he’d been watching me.”

“Creepy.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So, should we like, be worried? About him coming after you again? He sounds quite taken with you.”

“Seriously, Artemis, I’m going to punch you if you don’t watch it.”

“But he knows your route to school, your routine. Maybe we should call-”

“No.” Frank slammed his fist down on the counter. “We’re not calling him. Christ, it’s barely been a week. The whole point of coming down here was to prove that we can handle ourselves, remember?”

“Yeah, but I mean if you’re in danger he could help. You know he wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course he wouldn’t, that’s the problem. And I don’t need his help. Look, I’m gonna start wearing my belt again, just in case. But honestly, I doubt he’d give it another try. Usually they’re looking for someone they can easily leverage, someone scared. I took out at least a dozen guys before getting away. I don’t think I’m his ideal target.”

“Ok, if you’re sure.” Artemis crossed her arms. She didn’t like it.

“Can I take a look at your case?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “It’s pretty bare bones, I’m just getting started and all, but I’ll show you what I have.”

They made their way back into Artemis’ room. It was considerably neater than Frank’s. She pulled out a thin stack of files. It seemed like pretty standard stuff. They had a massive compound outside the city. He’d bet money that’s where Gerard lived. The patriarch was in fact dying, lung cancer, didn’t have long. It looked like Gerard had been running things for a while now anyways. Frank felt a knot growing in his stomach as he looked at their estimated numbers.

“They’ve got a lot of guys. If… If it does happen again, I might need back up.”

Artemis nodded. “Duh. I’ll come rescue you.”

“They probably live in the suburb stronghold. I’m guessing that’s where they’d take me. You got any blueprints?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “The public records office mysteriously lost them in a fire.”

“Wow. Shocking.”

They spent about an hour prepping for the worst. He could tell Artemis felt better about their chances. He was still a little hurt that she would suggest calling Bruce, but it wasn’t really her fault. They were both trying to figure out how to do the whole solo thing.

Frank made his way back to the kitchen and dumped his backpack on the counter. The blood from his throwing stars had gotten on his books. Wonderful. He started cleaning them off methodically. He’d enjoyed the fight while it was happening but it was an unwelcome reminder of why he left. Why he wasn’t really Robin anymore. Why he couldn’t be.

He wasn’t sure when he’d started to enjoy hurting people. At first it had been a necessary evil, something you had to do to the guilty people to keep the innocent ones safe. But then it grew into something else, something darker. A compulsion, almost an addiction to the violence. He wanted to blame Bruce but the truth was he didn’t know who was at fault. He had to walk away.

He’d wanted to kill Gerard. Part of him still did. But that wasn’t justice, that wasn’t what he was trained for. That wasn’t who he was. It couldn’t be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, I'm on schedule! Leave a comment for your own personalized lotms quote.


	3. Two-Time Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee to go.

Frank barely made it out of bed the next morning. He’d forgotten to take some pain killers the night before even though he knew it was the best way to help with the soreness. His ankle was holding up alright but his ribs were throbbing. At least he’d slept like a rock, that outta count for something right?

Artemis made a point to walk with him to his first class. He wasn’t mad, not really. Annoyed maybe, but not mad. She wouldn’t leave until they made plans to get coffee that afternoon. Frank thought she could’ve at least tried to be a little less obvious with her paranoia.

He was pretty confident that the thing with Gerard had already blown over, but he couldn’t stop himself from constantly looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t put the thought of being stalked out of his mind. It shadowed him throughout the day, more unshakeable than any tail he’d encountered.

The coffee shop on campus was crowded. It was always crowded. It took forever for Frank to find Artemis through the crush of sleep deprived students.

“You order yet?” He slipped into the battered little booth.

“Two large coffees, one with cream and one black for the madman.”

“Thanks. Did you get any sleep last night?”

“A little. I was planning on crashing one of your boyfriend’s drops but they called an audible. Something seems to have the Ways all riled up.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, it could be anything. Maybe the old man finally croaked,” he shot back defensively.

“Maybe. All I know is there wasn’t any action.”

“That’s not always a bad thing. At least you got some sleep for the first time in 36 hours.”

“Mm, yeah, I’m sure they called off a thousand-dollar drug deal for the sake of my health. Obviously.”

“Well I’m sure it’s fine,” he flapped a hand. “I haven’t seen anybody following me all day.”

“Every building’s wired with cameras. They wouldn’t need to follow you idiot. You wearing your belt?”

Frank squirmed in his seat. He had been trying not to think about the fact that he was wearing his belt tucked under his hoodie all day. It wasn’t exactly making it easier to let go of being Robin and just be Frank.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

“Good. I’m going to the bathroom, coffee’s under my name.”

The barista called it out right after she left. Frank took a hard swig of his coffee, willing the caffeine into his bloodstream. It left him feeling dizzy, like he’d stood up too fast. Weird. It seemed much farther to their table than before. He could feel himself rapidly losing his grip on his surroundings. What the fuck?

His feet faltered and he tripped forward. He could make out a blurry flash of Gerard’s face as he felt someone catch him. 

“Shh, Frankie. Easy now.”

Frank tried to scream, but a heavy darkness was pulling at him. He barely gargled out a croak before it dragged him under.

He came around to Gerard gently slapping his cheek.

“Rise and shine, Frankie.”  
He was propped up against the wall of what looked and smelled like a sewer with his arms and legs shackled together. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls and his belt was woefully missing. Whatever they’d dosed him with was strong.

“What the fuck did you give me?” he wheezed. His throat felt like it was cracking apart.

“Oh, just a little something to help you sleep,” Gerard giggled and yanked him to his feet. His legs were so weak and wobbly that he fell into Gerard’s arms again.

He pulled himself back and shook his head, trying to regain some clarity. “You’ve made a big mistake, asshole.”

“I don’t think so, I think it’s going to go wonderfully. After all, I brought a little insurance this time.”

“Insurance? What’re you talking about?”

“Shh, all in good time. We’ve got to take a little walk first.”

“Where the fuck are we?”

“Old abandoned maintenance tunnel under Main Street. Walk with me, Frankie.” He pulled on Frank’s chains hard, forcing him to stumble forwards.

They didn’t go far before they came upon an odd little group of people. Frank spotted Michael, Gerard’s little brother and second in command. And, was that-

“Is that a priest?”

“Shut up, Frankie,” Gerard sing-songed.

“Listen, you motherfucker. This is your last chance to let me go before I kill you and all your little friends, and then burn the family business to the ground.”

“Yeah, see here’s what’s going to happen. This nice man here,” he clapped the priest on the shoulder, “is going to marry us. Mikey will be our witness. And once we’re done, we’re all going to get in the car and go home.”

“When I said not in a million years, I meant not in a million fuckin years. No.”

“You sure, Frankie?” he drawled. He looked far to smug for Frank’s comfort. “Not in a million years? Not even to save the city?”

“Save the city from what, your pathetic excuse of a gang?” Frank snorted. “Not a chance.”

“Oh no, not from that. From this.” Gerard whipped something out of his jacket and a long row of blinking red lights illuminated just over their heads. It stretched out of sight in both directions.

“Is that… C4?”

Gerard giggled. “Mmhmm. Plastic explosives hooked up to miles and miles of the city’s gas lines.” Frank was transfixed as his thumb brushed dangerously over the detonator. “Enough to take the whole town down with us. So, what’da’ya say Frankie? Wanna get hitched?”

Frank let his eyes wander back up to the blinking trail of C4 above their heads. He didn’t doubt that Gerard would blow it. He was certainly crazy enough. He knew what the right thing to do was, it’s just that he really, really didn’t want to do it. But he had to keep him occupied until he could get his hands on the detonator. Frank groaned.

“Fine, but I’m not fucking sleeping with you. You can blow the whole damn state for all I care, there’s a line. And for the love of god, my name is Frank.”

Gerard’s face split into a wide grin. “See Mikey, I told you it’d work.” He jostled Mikey cheerfully. Mikey rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I skipped a week! What can I say, I was on vacation. Leave a comment if the ticketmaster queue totally fucked you over and you didn't get tickets.
> 
> If you did I don't wanna hear about it. Smug ass bastards.


	4. Honeymoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just newlyweds doing newlywed things.

The Ways must’ve been Catholic because the priest talked forever. They made for a very strange wedding party: Frank, shivering in his ratty Misfits hoody and holey jeans, standing next to an immaculately dressed Gerard, their faces illuminated by the blinking red lights of the C4.

Frank zoned out. He was furious with himself for not foreseeing this. If Bruce ever found out, he would probably kill him. Or tell Barbara. He wasn’t sure which was worse. He wondered where Artemis was.

He snapped back to attention when he heard the priest say “You may now kiss the groom.” Gerard grabbed his hands and pulled him close. Frank didn’t stop it, but he sure as hell didn’t reciprocate. Gerard pouted.

“Frankie, you promised you’d be a good sport.”

“No, I didn’t. I said I’d do the bare minimum to stop you from blowing up the whole zip code.”

Gerard sighed. “Alright, let’s go home.”

He started off further down the tunnel. Frank shuffled awkwardly after them. He wondered if he could convince Gerard to untie him. It might give him a shot at the detonator.

“You gonna untie me now?”

“Nope,” Gerard answered cheerfully. 

He rolled his eyes. “Wonderful,” he muttered.

They emerged into the blinding afternoon light. Frank barely got a glimpse of what was in fact Main Street before being shoved into a big black SUV. He went without much of a fight. He couldn’t risk getting away without neutralizing the bomb threat first. Gerard clambered in the other side, reaching over to buckle Frank’s seatbelt before settling in his seat.

“Safety first,” he hummed.

Frank shot him a glare.

The car ride took about forty-five minutes. Frank counted the turns tried to keep track of street signs through the dark tinted windows. He didn’t really have to, since he knew where they were taking him. But it made him feel better to do something. Gerard didn’t try to talk to him which was a relief.

They didn’t stop until they were inside the gates at the Way family estate. He fumbled with the door through his cuffs. It was awkward but anything was better than waiting for Gerard to do it for him. Mikey climbed out of the front seat and together the three of them started up towards the house.

They were waylaid in the driveway by someone who looked important. A man with an impressive cloud of curly hair pulled Gerard aside and started whispering furiously. Gerard distractedly flapped his hand over his shoulder at Mikey.

Mikey sighed and grabbed Frank by the elbow, pulling him towards the house at twice the speed. Frank stumbled as he tried to keep up. Mikey yanked him inside and up the stairs, stopping in front of an oak set of double doors. He shoved Frank in the room without a word. The click of the deadbolt was unmistakable.

He found himself in what was undoubtably Gerard’s bedroom. Creepy as it was, he was grateful for the moment alone. He rummaged around in the drawers until he found something to pick his cuffs with. Once he got his hands free, it was easy to unlock his feet. He left the chains on the floor and slipped into the master bathroom. 

It took him a while but eventually he found a pair of tweezers that were sharp enough. He rolled back his sleeve to find the careful row of stitches he’d sewn up the night before. With a grimace, he sliced them open. He plunged two fingers into the wound and rooted around until he found it.

He and Artemis had established the com link in case of emergency but he’d worried that if he kept it in his belt it wouldn’t be much help. Unfortunately, his hunch was correct. He rinsed his blood off the earpiece and popped it in.

“Artemis? Can you hear me?”

“Frank, thank god,” she responded almost immediately. “Are you ok? Where did they take you?”

“I’m fine, I’m in their compound. Listen, Artemis, you can’t come get me.” Frank’s voice sounded calmer than he felt as he started wrapping up his arm.

“What? Why not?”

“Gerard’s wired the city’s gas lines with plastic explosives. He’s been holding the detonator over my head. We need to take care of the bombs first.”

“Jesus Christ, see I told you he was dangerous.”

“And I told you he was crazy. Look, there’s a daisy chain of C4 in a maintenance tunnel under Main Street. I couldn’t see how far it stretched but that’s where you need to start. Go take a look and figure out if you can disarm one charge without triggering the rest.”

“Already on it. What are you going to do?”

“Try to get the detonator away from an insane killer before he blows us all to bits.”

“Ok, well, enjoy your honeymoon. I’ll update you when I can.”

“Fuck you, Artemis.”

He quickly muted the microphone and pulled his sleeve down over his bandaged arm when he heard the door open. 

“Frankie, you in here?”

Frank didn’t respond. He let the sink run as he rinsed the last traces of his blood off his hand. When he couldn’t stall any longer, he opened the door to face Gerard.

“Yeah, where the fuck else would I be,” he snapped.

“Already out of your chains? I guess you didn’t really need me to untie you after all, huh?” His voice was light and teasing.

Frank glanced at the door. He’d shut it behind him. Good.

He let Gerard approach. He was talking about something but Frank wasn’t listening. He tensed. When he was close enough, Frank grabbed Gerard’s wrist and slammed him chest-first against the wall. He held him still with a strong hand at the base of his neck while he quickly patted Gerard down. Frank found a gun and two knives but no detonator. He spun him around and slammed his head against the wall.

“Where is it?” Frank growled.

“Oh Frankie, so predictable,” Gerard sighed. “You don’t actually think I’d bring it with me, do you? Put it right within your reach? I hope you don’t think I’m that stupid.”

Frank’s forearm was braced across his throat. He searched his eyes. “You gave it to Mikey, didn’t you?”

He saw panic flash across Gerard’s features. Apparently, he wasn’t the only predictable one. Before Frank could really appreciate his little victory, Gerard stomped on his injured foot hard. He sucked in a breath as the pain ricocheted up his leg. Gerard took advantage of his loosened grip by dropping his shoulder and placing a sharp uppercut to his stomach.

Frank took a few steps backward, putting some distance between them. If Gerard didn’t have the detonator there wasn’t any reason to fight him, but he couldn’t exactly wave a white flag. Gerard swung for another punch, this time towards his face. Frank sidestepped and braced his arm against his knee, deftly popping his shoulder out. Gerard grunted with pain.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Frank instinctively dropped Gerard. For a long second, no one moved.

“Boss? You in there?” The guy from the driveway popped his head in the door. When he saw Frank standing over Gerard, his arm bent at an unnatural angle, he whipped out his gun.

“Don’t-” Frank cried but he was cut off by a bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you thought I was being nice with a double update, that's adorable! Enjoy you're cliffhanger motherfuckers.


	5. Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A midnight stroll

He felt the searing heat as the bullet was buried deep inside his thigh. He gritted his teeth and cursed, falling to his knees. He clumsily pulled off his hoody and pressed it tight against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Christ, Ray, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He hazily heard Gerard snap.

“He was hurting you, boss!”

“That doesn’t mean you get to shoot my husband! Get down to the infirmary, tell them to have a table ready to dig the bullet out. Go!”

He felt Gerard kneel at his side.

“Hey,” he murmured softly. “Are you ok? Can you walk?”

Frank inhaled sharply and forced himself to his feet. “Yeah, I can walk. Not exactly the first time I’ve been shot.” 

He wanted to protest when Gerard put his arm around his waist but he didn’t have the energy. Frank let him gently guide them out the door. 

“We gotta go down the stairs, Frankie. Think you can make it down the stairs?”

“I can manage.”

They hobbled down one step at a time. They were moving pretty slow but Gerard seemed impressed that Frank could walk at all. They made their way down a hallway for what felt like forever. Frank could feel how much blood he was losing with each step, his sweatshirt already warm and sticky all over.

Finally, finally they reached the infirmary. There were already three people scrubbed up as Gerard helped him up on the cold table.

“Sedate him,” said one of the doctors.

“No, don’t, I can-” Frank felt the pinch of an IV in his arm. He did not want these people to pump any more drugs in his body, but he could already feel his limbs filling with heaviness. It was pointless to resist. He let the anesthesia carry him gently under.

Frank was groggy and disoriented when he came to. He was tucked into a big, soft bed. He sat up and blinked slowly. Gerard’s room. He was in Gerard’s room. All the lights were turned out and Gerard was next to him, snoring softly. He carefully pulled back to covers. He was in his boxers, his thigh tightly wrapped in white gauze. Fucking perfect. Because this day just couldn’t get any better.  
Frank eased himself out of bed. To his surprise, the double doors were unlocked. He wasn’t wild about the idea of hobbling around in his boxers and t shirt, but he needed to see if he could sneak a peek at the complex’s blueprints. Somehow, he doubted Gerard would keep them in his bedroom.

Once he was far enough down the darkened hallway, he clicked his com on.

“Artemis, you there?” he whispered.

“Yeah I’m still here.”

“Any update on the bomb situation?”

“Not since I last updated you two hours ago.” She sounded annoyed.

“Uh, yeah, could you repeat that? I was, uh, out.”

“Out? Like as in knocked out, out?”

“Kinda? I was, um, under.”

“Under? What happened?”

“Well, one of Gerard’s guys walked in on me dislocating his shoulder and he shot me, so they put me under to dig the bullet out.”

“He shot you?!” Artemis practically yelled.

“It was only in the leg,” Frank said defensively. “Look, it doesn’t matter, I’m fine. The bombs, Artemis.”

“It looks like if I disarm one, they’ll all go. It’s not a particularly complex set up but I can’t disarm them all at once. There’s hundreds.”

“Hmm.” Frank could feel a plan itching in the back of his brain. “Do you think KF could move from one to the next fast enough?”

“Maybe,” Artemis said skeptically. “He’s the only one who’d know for sure. He’d probably get closer than me, at least.”

“Alright, see if you can get ahold of him. Should still be in Central City last I heard.”

“On it. You sure you’re ok, Boy Wonder?”

“Yes, I’m sure. God, you’re worse than Alfred.”

“Whatever. I’ll catch you later. Try to be awake next time.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It would’ve been nice to know where to start, but Frank wandered pretty aimlessly. He figured the two most likely places to find the plans would be Gerard’s office and wherever they coordinated their security. He started on the second floor searching for the office. He wasn’t too keen on running into a bunch of security meatheads. For all he knew, they might shoot him again.

The office turned out to be on the ground floor. Frank made a beeline for the desktop. It would be more difficult without his Wayne tech but he was sure he could manage. He ended up having to guess at the password and was horrified to find it was his own name and birthday. Jesus, this guy was anything but subtle.

He found the blueprints buried on the hard drive. He established a secure connection to send them to the Bird Computer. He’d have to give Artemis the password for now, but it would be much harder to track than her laptop.  
It was a large file going through several dummy IPs so it was going to take a while. Frank took the opportunity to peruse some of the files Gerard had spread across his desk. There was intel on some of the other gangs in Bludhaven, what looked like blackmail on the District Attorney, and of course a thick file of creepy stalker photos of Frank. Lovely. He was much more interested in the heavily tabbed folder outlining every cop in the city. It looked like a good chunk were on the Way’s payroll, and they were strategizing on how to bring in the ones that weren’t. It was almost worse than the Gotham PD.

Frank was trying to figure out why an operation like the Ways would need the whole force on the payroll when the room flooded with light. Gerard was standing in the doorway. His face looked murderous. Frank felt his stomach sink. Up until now, Gerard had been in good humor and he’d already been kidnapped twice, drugged, chained up, and shot. Maybe making him angry wasn’t a great idea.

“Taking a midnight stroll, are we?” His voice was a low dangerous purr.

“Guess I had to stretch my legs,” Frank said casually. He risked a glance at the desktop. The plans had gone through ok.

“And you just randomly stumbled upon my personal files, is that it?” He started to cross the room slowly.

“Something like that.” Frank couldn’t deny what was happening here. Gerard wasn’t stupid.

“Find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah, and about 300 seriously creepy photos of me. You should get help, man, that can’t be healthy.”

“So now you’re concerned about my health?” Gerard gestured darkly to his shoulder.

“Sure,” Frank shrugged. “I know a brilliant psychiatrist. She’s got a weird thing for clowns but she’s the best in the business. I can give you her card.”

Gerard grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him out of the chair. “Why did you hack my computer?” he hissed.

“I don’t know if ‘hack’ is really fair, I mean you made the password my birthday. I don’t think that counts as hacking,” Frank bargained.

Gerard dug his thumb into the bullet wound in Frank’s thigh. He couldn’t contain a whimper as his vision whited out with pain. It was a low blow, and Frank knew instantly that he was not going to fare well in another fist fight.

“I do hate to repeat myself, Frankie.”

“Just browsing,” he choked out.

Gerard twisted his nails. Frank gasped for breath as another wave of agony rocked his body. “Come on now, marriage is based on trust,” he said condescendingly.

Frank weighed the situation carefully in his head. There was no way Gerard would be able to get the file back. Artemis already had everything she needed. His wound was beginning to bleed again, and trying to fight in this condition might very well be suicide.

“Blueprints. Looking for blueprints.”

Gerard instantly dropped him and Frank fell to his hands and knees, unable to support himself.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Frank.”

“I don’t know why,” Frank said weakly. “You’re the one who brought a known detective into your criminal hideout. That’s not usually recommended, you know.”

Gerard didn’t respond. He was looking at the monitor and typing furiously. Frank focused on breathing through his nose as the room swooped around him. He knew trying to stand right then would be   
stupid, so he stayed where he was.

“Who?”

Frank didn’t even look up.

“Who did you send them to?”

“Technically I sent them to myself.”

Gerard kicked him sharply in the stomach. He shuttered. 

“Well now I’m definitely not going to tell you.”

“You know I hate to hurt you Frankie. Why don’t you make it easier for both of us and just tell me who has them?” he asked sweetly.

“Or what? You gonna shoot me again?” Frank was pretty certain Gerard wouldn’t kill him. He obviously wanted to keep him around. But he didn’t seem to mind hurting him.

He heard Gerard crouch down next to him. He wasn’t even surprised when he grabbed his shaggy hair and wrenched his head up. Gerard forced him to look him in the eyes.

“I’ll do whatever I god damn please, because you’re mine now Frankie. When are you going to understand that?”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath. Or, do.”

Gerard slapped him hard across the face. It left Frank’s scalp stinging and the taste of blood in his mouth.  
Then he suddenly stopped and looked at his watch, sighing sadly.

“We’re going to have to continue this conversation another time. We need to be getting back to bed, we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Frank did not appreciate his casual use of the plural pronouns. He would rather not be lumped into anything with Gerard. He went to stand, but Gerard hooked his hands under his armpits and hauled him up. Before he could react, he was scooped up into Gerard’s arms.

Frank squirmed uncomfortably, trying to worm his way out of Gerard’s vice grip. “I can walk on my own, you know.”

“You can walk when I trust you not to wander off,” Gerard said dryly.

Despite all his protests, he carried him all the way back to his room and dropped Frank on the bed before moving around to the other side. Frank immediately sat up, intending to change the bloody bandages on his bullet wound. Gerard caught his arm, gripping hard enough to bruise.

“Oh, no you don’t. Go to bed Frankie.”

“But I need to change my bandages.”

Gerard plunged the room into darkness. “You have ten seconds to go the fuck to sleep before I knock you out and be done with it.”

He thought about it for a moment, but eventually settled uncomfortably back on the pillows. Gerard wrapped a strong arm around his waist.

“Get the fuck off me,” Frank growled.

“Mmm, not a chance sugar. Gotta make sure you don’t sneak off again,” he mumbled against a pillow.

Frank was blindingly mad but he couldn’t do much about it. Whenever he shifted even slightly away, Gerard’s grip tightened. He glared at the ceiling for what felt like hours before he finally passed out against his will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my darlings! thanks for sticking with me through that cliffhanger. leave a comment for my never-ending devotion.


	6. Good Morning Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wake up call

The next morning, he woke to Gerard lightly slapping his cheek. Frank groaned and rolled over. He was not excited for whatever fresh hell he had planned for today. The longer he could put it off, the better.

“Come on Frankie, time to wake up.” He sounded cheerful. That was probably good, at least. Frank was even less excited to continue their conversation from last night.

“’ive more minutes,” he mumbled, barely awake.

“Nope, you gotta get up now. Don’t make me kick you out of bed.”

Frank let out another groan, hoping it would pass as a response. Evidently it did not. Gerard kicked him hard in the side and he fell to the ground in an undignified tangle of sheets.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Frank spat out as he struggled to free himself from the bedding.

“I gave you a warning,” Gerard said innocently. “Now come on, we gotta get you looking presentable. We’re having breakfast with my parents, and I have a coworker coming for afternoon tea.”

“Afternoon tea? What are you, fucking British?” Frank grumbled as he was herded towards the shower.

He locked the bathroom door before carefully unwrapping his bandages. His wound looked enflamed but not infected. He sighed heavily. He hated getting shot. Usually it was only ok because Alfred would make him waffles in bed. But this time there were no waffles and no Alfred, just Frank and the homicidal maniac who got him shot.

The warm water did little to soothe his worries. Frank had been taken before, it was true, but it had never been like this. He had always been tied up, tortured or interrogated in some dirty little basement until Bruce finally made an appearance. Not paraded around like a trophy wife. He almost regretted cutting Bruce’s tracker out of his leg. He felt entirely out of his depth, even if he was determined not to show it.

He carefully wrapped his thigh before slipping out of the bathroom in a towel. He was hoping Gerard would be gone but Frank had the shittiest luck. He was buttoning up his waistcoat in front of the large wardrobe, his back to Frank. His black hair was a stylishly disheveled mess. On the bed was a starched black shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and a deep red tie. It was the same color as Gerard’s waistcoat. Frank shook his head.

“Fuck no. What did you do with my clothes?”

“What’re you talking about, Frankie? They’re right there.” Gerard cut him a grin over his shoulder.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Give me my jeans and hoodie back.”

“You bled all over ‘em, remember?”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t have a laundry room in your giant mansion?” Frank crossed his arms.

He could tell Gerard was running out of patience. “Shut up and get dressed before you make us late. My father doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”

Frank had no desire to match with him but he needed to be smart. He wouldn’t have the stamina to fight Gerard on every little thing. He needed to get the detonator and get out, and that meant picking his battles carefully. With a scowl, he pulled on the jeans.

He was confused when Gerard led him down into his office. Frank wasn’t sure why they were making a pit stop if they were running late. It made him uneasy. And he didn’t love that he could see a couple spots of his blood on the floor, an unwelcome reminder of last night.

Gerard pushed him into a chair without offering any explanation. Instead he went and started digging through his disorganized filing cabinet. Frank wanted to ask what he was looking for but he knew instinctively that he wouldn’t get an answer. He was even more confused when Mikey casually strolled in a few minutes later.

“Took you guys long enough to get ready,” he said flatly. “Come on, we’re going to be late. Dad hates it when we’re late.”

“I know, I know, I just- I don’t know where it went.” Gerard sounded a little panicked.

“Third row, second drawer.” Mikey was clearly indispensable to his brother’s operation, which confirmed what Frank had already suspected.

“Ah, I found it!” Gerard said proudly, looking delighted with himself. Mikey and Frank rolled their eyes in unison. 

Gerard pulled out a piece of paper and signed it before passing it to Mikey. He signed it as well, and then set it in Frank’s lap.

It was a marriage certificate, rubber stamped by one of their pocket judges no doubt. Frank felt his mouth go dry. He hadn’t expected their… whatever this was to be legal.

His brow furrowed. “Is this… binding?”

“Of course,” said Mikey. He placed a pen in Frank’s hand.

“Wait, I don’t-”

“You don’t have a choice,” Mikey cut him off coldly.

Frank’s stomach flipped. He hadn’t expected a marriage certificate. He signed it shakily, pointedly not looking at Gerard, and handed it back to Mikey.

“Finally. Can we go now?” Mikey sounded bored.

“One last thing, catch Frankie.” Gerard tossed him a black velvet box. 

Frank knew there was probably going to be a ring but it still made the anger burn low and hot in his stomach. He tried to swallow it down as he slipped the gold band on his finger. Focus, he needed to focus. Get the detonator and get out. Nothing else mattered.

Gerard was grinning at him giddily. Frank met him with a glare. It didn’t seem to bother him as he pulled them out of the room. They trailed after Mikey in the direction of the dining room. Frank didn’t think he wanted to meet their dad but then again, no one had asked him.

The large wooden table was already laden with food when they arrived. The head of the table was empty, but there was a blonde woman seated to the left of it. She rose when they entered.

“Oh, boys! Good morning.” She kissed Gerard and then Mikey on the cheek. “And you must be Frank. It’s so lovely to have you.” Before he could think of a way out of it, she kissed him too. “Come, come, have a seat.”

“Is Dad…” Mikey trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

“Regretfully, your father isn’t feeling well enough to make it. But he sends his warmest congratulations to the happy couple.” She smiled at Frank. 

He wanted to laugh at the thought of them being a happy couple but somehow, he didn’t think Gerard would appreciate it. Frank could see that he looked shattered at his father’s absence. It made him curious about their relationship. He guided him to a seat with a hand on his lower back. Frank didn’t dare protest in front of their mother.

“So, Frank, how did you two meet?” Mrs. Way asked pleasantly.

“What?” He couldn’t tell if she was being serious.

“How did you meet my Gerard?” She smiled encouragingly.

He glanced at Gerard out of the corner of his eye. “He kidnapped me.” 

“Ah, how romantic. He can be so charming when he wants to be.” She was still smiling but her eyes were blank. She was definitely being serious.

“Uh, sure, I guess that’s one word for it.” He knew Mrs. Way was going to be a victim of their sick little tradition but he’d forgotten how unsettling it was in person. A shiver ran down his spine.

Gerard started filling Frank’s plate with food. He watched with horror as he stacked eggs and sausages and buttermilk biscuits in front of him. There wasn’t really a point in saying something, hardly anything laid out before them was vegan anyways.

Frank picked half-heartedly at a bowl of fruit while the Ways chatted, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He only added to the conversation when he was directly addressed and spent the rest of the time imagining he was anywhere else. The collar of his shirt itched.

The meal was winding down when Gerard frowned worriedly at him.

“Frankie, what’s wrong? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cuz I’m vegan.”

He looked shocked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Not hungry anyways.” Frank pushed his plate away from him.

It wasn’t long before Gerard excused them. He kept looking at Frank like he was genuinely concerned, and it was starting to piss him off. He didn’t say anything about it though, not wanting to invite further conversation. 

“I have some work to do before our guest arrives. Would you like to join me in my office, or would you like to wait in our bedroom?”

Frank snorted. “Are those my two options? Conjoined at the hip with you or locked in your room? Wow, I’m shocked you couldn’t find a boyfriend on your own. So charming.” He was being malicious and he knew it.

Gerard’s face went stormy. “I don’t know why I bother,” he muttered as he grabbed Frank by the elbow and pulled him along forcefully.

They ended up back in his office. Frank almost wished he’d taken the opportunity to be left alone, even though the dig had been fun. Gerard settled at his desk. The room was silent save the occasional muttering to himself. It didn’t take long for Frank to get bored.

He was slouched down in his seat counting the tell-tale nicks of knife marks in the wall when his com crackled to life.

“Frank, you there? I just got ahold of KF.”

It took every ounce of his willpower not to sit up to attention. He couldn’t alert Gerard that anything was off.

“Alright, I’m gonna assume you can’t talk,” Artemis said after a pause. “He’s not sure if he can do it or not. Without knowing how fast the signal will travel between charges, it’s hard to say. But he’s coming down from Central City after he gets out of school to take a look. We’ll do some investigating when he gets here and go from there.”

There was another pause. Frank turned that information over in his mind.

“You better fucking be awake. If I have to repeat that all again, I’m going to skin you alive.” And then she was gone again. 

He didn’t want to get too hopeful, but he liked their odds. He trusted the two of them to sort it out. Even if he didn’t think he was fast enough, Wally would probably have some other ridiculous plan. He always did.

He looked up to find Gerard looking intently at him. He felt a swell of panic seize up and grip his throat with an icy hand. Surely, he didn’t know about the com link just by looking at him. Frank swallowed thickly.

“What?” he snapped.

“What’re you thinking about?” His voice was soft.

“Nothing,” Frank said defensively.

“Aw, come on Frankie,” He smiled lopsidedly. “You always get that little crease between your eyebrows when you’re working something out. What is it?”

“Just wondering how my life got so spectacularly fucked,” he drawled. “Don’t let it keep you from your work.”

Gerard looked wounded, like he’d slapped him. He looked back down at his papers without another word but Frank could see the blush of anger creeping up his cheeks.

The hours passed torturously slow. Frank would kill to get his phone back. He hadn’t seen it since he’d woken up in that godforsaken sewer. Eventually someone brought in lunch for them. He looked at his sandwich skeptically.

“It’s vegan,” Gerard supplied helpfully.

Frank scowled at him. “I’m not hungry.”

It was a lie of course. He’d hardly eaten anything since lunch yesterday. His traitorous stomach lurched loudly at the smell of fake bacon.

“Frank,” Gerard said sternly. “You have to eat something.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“Well, you’re not going to starve yourself to death. I’d stick a feeding tube in you before I let that happen.”

He wasn’t actually trying to starve himself. He was just trying to be difficult. He took a bite of the sandwich after a few minutes, ignoring the look of smug satisfaction on Gerard’s face. They settled back into their uncomfortable silence.

Mikey popped his head in sometime later. Frank had no idea how long it’d been.

“She just sent word that she’s on her way.”

Gerard nodded. “Did she say how long?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Good. Go check that everything’s ready in the sitting room.”

“Yep.” He ducked back out.

Frank had no interest in meeting any of Gerard’s coworkers, but he wasn’t going to let him off the hook. Gerard started haphazardly filing things away and trying to clean up his desk. Watching him made Frank feel bad for Mikey. 

“Listen, Frank. This is a largely social visit with a coworker and a friend. I need to keep a good working relationship with her, which means you need to be on your best behavior.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He grumbled.

“I mean it. There will be consequences if you’re not polite.” His voice was dark and Frank didn’t think he wanted to find out what he meant by consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being scarce kiddos. Maybe I'll hit you back with a treat to make up for it ;)


	7. Happy Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank meets an old friend

He was expecting to be equally bored in this meeting but white-hot fury seized him the second he entered the sitting room. He would recognize those stripes anywhere.

“Oh lovely,” he said sourly. “It’s Ches.” 

“I was wondering if you two would know each other,” Gerard said mildly.

Cheshire was perched lithely on one of the many couches. She looked delighted to see Frank.

“You didn’t say you caught a little birdie, Gee.” She leaned forward, instantly intrigued.

Gerard tried to move them over to meet her but Frank was rooted to the spot. He’d fought a lot of people during his time as a caped crusader but very few of them had earned his hatred. He probably despised her more than anyone on Earth, except maybe Gerard. But even that was close.

“You promised to be good,” Gerard hissed in his ear.

“You didn’t say it was Cheshire,” he hissed back.

He gave him a hard shove forward. “Be civil or else.”

Frank forced his feet to move. He sat across from her.

“How you been, Jade?” he asked coldly.

She flinched the tiniest bit at the use of her real name. He was sure she’d be pissed that he said it in front of Gerard. 

“Excellent, actually. Even better now,” she replied airily. 

“And how’s the family? Kill any foreign dignitaries with dear old dad lately?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. How can a girl resist an all-expense paid vacation? Amsterdam is so perfect this time of year.”

Frank paled as he remembered the death he’d seen in the news last week. Although he shouldn’t be surprised, it was a poisoning after all.

“How’s my little sister?” she asked lightly. “I heard she was in town.”

“She’s good, no thanks to you,” he said roughly. “She healed just fine from that stab wound you gave her in El Salvador.”

“Oh please,” she waved him off. “That was a love tap.”

Gerard was looking back and forth between them like he was watching a tennis match. Frank couldn’t really blame him for not knowing how much bad blood they had, but he would anyways.

Cheshire carefully poured three cups of tea. “Milk or sugar anyone?”

“I’ll take some sugar,” Gerard said cheerfully. “Frankie?”

“Milk.”

He watched as she poured it, and then proceeded to stir the cup with one of her long sharp fingernails. She popped some sugar in Gerard’s and handed them the cups.

Frank made direct eye contact with her as he poured it out on the floor. Gerard didn’t protest, so he must’ve known that she dipped her nails in poisons as well.

She laughed brightly. “Same old Frank, never misses a trick.” He wanted to reach across the table and wipe that smile off her face. “Which doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. I was shocked to hear about your retirement, but I must admit I imagined you whiling away on a beach somewhere. I certainly wouldn’t have pictured you settling down with a coworker.”

Gerard looked at him quizzically. “Retirement?”

Frank gritted his teeth. This was so messy and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Oh, you didn’t hear? Boy Wonder here has been having a crisis of faith.”

“It wasn’t a crisis of faith, I quit. There’s a difference,” Frank bit out.

“That’s not what Batman said,” she teased.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you and Batman were pen pals now.” She was trying to bait him and he hated that it was working.

“It’s nice to keep in touch.”

“Hm, I never would’ve guessed you to be the type. I bet your sister wouldn’t either.”

She flinched again. Despite what had happened between them, Artemis had never stopped caring for Jade. But while she always seemed conflicted, Frank knew from personal experience that Cheshire would choose the job over Artemis every time. He hated seeing his friends get hurt, and she was only ever going to hurt her in the end.

“So, tell me, Gerard,” she said, deftly changing the subject. “How’d you manage to make such an extraordinary catch?”

Gerard grinned sheepishly. “C4 planted on the city’s gas lines. He’s such a fiery one that I had to have a little insurance.”

“Ah, so you are still playing hero then, Robin?”

“No.” It was far more complicated than that.

“Mm, that’s not what it looks like to me,” she teased. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before you were back in the game.”

“I’m not,” he shook his head. “I’m not back in the game. I was living a normal life when he kidnapped me. Not wanting to get blown to bits doesn’t make me back in the game.” 

“Right,” she smirked, unconvinced.

Gerard changed the subject again, shifting her attention slightly. Frank took the opportunity to hurl his tea cup at her head. She was just too slow to react and it shattered across her cheek leaving a spiderweb of little cuts. In an instant, both Cheshire and Frank were on their feet ready to duke it out. Gerard swiftly stepped between them, shoving Frank backwards and forcing him to stand down.

“Alright, I think that’s enough small talk for today.” He gave Frank a lethal glare. “Cheshire, why don’t you and I discuss some business in my office?” He offered her a handkerchief for the blood slowly oozing down her face.

“I think that’s an excellent idea. Lovely to see you as always, Frank. We should do this again sometime,” she called as she trailed out of the room.

“Don’t slip and fall on your knife,” Frank said flatly.

He wanted to put his fist through the fucking wall. He should’ve killed Cheshire when he had the chance. He’d had her in his sights plenty of times but Artemis always begged him not to. She was still convinced she could bring Jade back. Frank knew better.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a voice. 

“I think that went well.” Mikey was leaning against the door frame. 

Frank sighed. “Of course he’d send you to babysit me.”

“Well you have to admit you haven’t exactly been doing great at the staying put thing. I’d be more surprised if he did trust you.”

“I don’t want him to trust me, I want him to let me go.”

Mikey hummed. “Are you coming or not?”

It wasn’t a question because he didn’t have a choice. Frank followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love a double upload. Y'all deserve it you guys are the best. Leave a comment if you wanna see Frank go ape shit.


	8. Work It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Mikey share some quality time.

He was half expecting to go sit in Mikey’s office for hours on end but instead they ended up in the basement. They were standing in the middle of a cavernous training room. Frank thought it might even rival the Bat Cave’s.

He eyed Mikey suspiciously. “What are we doing here?”

“You looked like you needed to hit something,” he shrugged and tossed him a set of gym clothes. “Locker room’s over there.”

Frank knew this was stupid. The last thing he needed was for the Way’s to get a better idea of what he could or couldn’t do in combat. He should definitely say no. But at the same time, Mikey was right. He did need to hit something. Badly. When he came back out, Mikey was standing in the middle of the sparring ring.

“You want hand to hand or armed?” he called.

Frank thought for a moment. “Hand to hand’s good.”

He sized Mikey up. He was skinny, probably not as strong, but his reach was longer. Frank was going to have to strike hard and fast. 

The first round was over before it begun. Either Mikey was holding back or he was the least threatening mobster Frank had met in his life. He had him pinned to the ground in seconds.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Mikey said as Frank offered him a hand.

“Ah, what’s a manipulative bomb threat between friends,” he said dryly.

“Not for that. When Gerard told me what happened the first time he grabbed you, I didn’t quite believe it. I underestimated you.”

The next round Mikey got the better of him, but it was very close. Frank was a little insulted that he would feel the need to hold back in the first place. 

“So, what’s all this talk about retiring?”

Frank snorted. “Well aren’t you a little eavesdropper.”

“Yep. What did you retire from?”

“Not a very good eavesdropper then, if you didn’t pick up on that.”

“I got a call. You can’t be much older than me, I find it hard to believe you’re capable of retiring from anything.”

Frank rolled his eyes and caught one of Mikey’s legs, sending him sprawling. 

“She was talking about being Robin, but I didn’t retire. I quit.”

He sat up on his elbows. “Quit being Robin? You can do that?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s not like it’s slave labor.”

“Then who are you now?” Mikey blinked.

“I’m Frank.”

“No, I mean what’s your new vigilante name. You still need one, right?”

He huffed in frustration. “You don’t get it. I quit being Robin and I quit the life. I don’t do that shit anymore.”

“So, you’re not here to save the city from my brother’s plethora of C4?” He raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“He kidnapped me. That’s not the same, man.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Same as the difference between going out to a bar to pick a fight and reacting to a drunk asshole punching you in the face.”

Mikey frowned. “Ok, fair point.”

Mikey caught him in a flurry of strikes that Frank deftly parried. He was finally taking advantage of his longer reach and it was making it difficult to get a decent jab in. Frank figured it couldn’t hurt to give   
him the barest taste of his skills.

With one smooth movement, he flipped himself in a graceful arc over Mikey’s head, his arms tucked in tight against his torso and his legs kicking out as if doing a cartwheel. Landing behind his back, Frank roughly brought Mikey to the ground.

Mikey mumbled something unintelligible into the mat.

“What?”

“What the fuck?” he squeaked when Frank let him up. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

The barest hint of a smile flickered across Frank’s features. “The circus.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Mikey huffed.

Dinner was uncomfortably tense. It was just Frank and Gerard, seated at opposite ends of their massive dining room table. It was silent except for the sound of Gerard’s fork hitting his plate.

“Please. You should eat something.”

Frank glared at him.

“I’m sorry…” Gerard cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m sorry about this afternoon. I clearly misjudged some things.”

Frank snorted. “You think?”

“I thought- Well, you were so casual when you mentioned Harley Quinn the other night, I thought it would be different. Less… animosity.”

Frank shook his head. Harley was nothing like Cheshire. She was more chaotic than evil, really, and plus she was the only person he’d ever met that shared his appreciation for inappropriately timed acrobatics. He liked Harley.

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” he said flatly.

A few moments passed. 

“Who is she? Cheshire’s sister, I mean.” Frank barely heard him.

His head snapped up. “Like I’d tell you any of my friend’s real names.”

Gerard was looking at the table. “No, I mean. Who is she, to you?”

Frank’s jaw was strung tight. “Someone I care about. Someone I’m tired of watching Cheshire tear apart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update! What a treat. For those of you asking, of course Frank is going to snap! It's only a matter of time, silly! Anyways, this one goes out to the Mikey lovers. Oh and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Ray. He's coming back, give it time.


	9. Settled In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank gets some unexpected news.

Gerard was keeping an even closer eye on him since the whole Cheshire incident, which was not aiding his search for the detonator. He stealthily tried to pick Mikey’s pockets a couple different times, but he didn’t seem to have it on him. So, he was either hiding it somewhere in his rooms or he handed it off to someone else. Hopefully not the latter, because Frank didn’t think he could search the whole damn compound without being noticed.

He was laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling contemplating how exactly he planned to get into Mikey’s bedroom without anyone noticing when his com crackled to life again. He glanced over at Gerard. He looked pretty out but it was barely 11, so Frank probably couldn’t chance it.

“Ok, Bird Boy, I have good news and bad news.”

Frank didn’t respond, glancing nervously over at Gerard. There was a little bit of space between them and he hadn’t moved at all, which was a good sign.

“Ok, here’s the thing. We think we have a plan that’ll take care of the bombs. It was actually easier than we’d thought it would be. But there’s a problem.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “The Legion of Doom is pulling some shit. Something big. The League won’t give us any details yet but both Kid Flash and I have been called in.” 

That was not good. Fuck. 

“I know you’re pretty set on the whole ‘not telling Batman’ thing but… Frank I think I have to. We can’t just leave you, and we’re gonna need a damn good reason for bailing on League business.”

Frank took a chance. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed.

He was hoping it was low enough but Gerard sleepily raised his head.

“Frankie? Did you say something?”

“What?”

“I thought you said something.”

“What are you talking about Gerard? Go back to bed.”

His head dropped back onto the pillow. 

Artemis waited another second. “I know, Frank, I know. I get it, really I do. But I’m not leaving you in there with no back up for god knows how long. There’s risky and then there’s just plain stupid, man. And that would be really fucking stupid.”

Frank glared hard into the darkness, hoping to telepathically communicate his anger to Artemis.

“Yeah, you’re glaring at me, I know asshole. I don’t know what happened between you and Bruce, but it can’t be worth risking your life.”

The silence stretched out between them.

“Fuck, it would be nice if you could talk right now, though I’m pretty sure I know what you’d say. Alright, how about this. Fucking cough if you’re sure, and I mean one hundred percent sure Frank no bullshit, that you’re gonna be good until we can get back.”

Frank didn’t hesitate for a second. He practically coughed up a lung. The League could never know about this.

“Ok. Sit tight then I guess, fuck.”

Gerard spent the next two days asking him if he was getting sick but it was totally worth it.

As much as Frank hated the idea of trying to settle in, he had to face reality. With both Artemis and Kid Flash out of the city on Justice League business for god knows how long, his quickest way out of this predicament was the detonator. Which he couldn’t even get close to with Gerard watching him like a hawk. 

He was going to have to get a little friendlier with the Ways.

He was subtle at first, not wanting to draw any suspicion by going too far too fast. He started with just talking during meals, meaningless small talk that made Gerard seem to visibly relax. Within a week, he could wander between the sitting room, the training room, and Gerard’s office without arousing suspicion. 

Gerard didn’t seem too concerned about it, but Mikey was clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Frank sat on his hands and didn’t do anything questionable. Their guard needed to be a little lower for this to work. After a few days of waiting, his patience paid off when he was handed an opportunity on a silver platter in the form of an awkward apology.

He was spread out on one of the couches idly flipping through one of Gerard’s comics when he heard the shuffle of feet enter the room. Frank didn’t look up, assuming it was Mikey passing through or something. But then they stopped.

“Uh, hey Frank. Got a moment?”

He looked up, not recognizing the voice, only to be greeted by a cloud of curly hair that he definitely recognized. It was the kid from his first day there.

“Yeah, I guess,” Frank shrugged, unsure of where this was going.

“I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for, um, shooting you and everything.”

“Oh.” He blinked in surprise. “It’s ok man, thanks for not shooting me anywhere lethal,” he tried to joke.

“Ha. Yeah. Of course, I mean yeah of course. I just reacted ya know, but Gerard would kill me if anything happened to you. All of us probably…” His rambling trailed off for a moment. “But seriously, I’m glad you’re doing ok.”

“Ok might be a bit of an overstatement,” he grumbled to himself.

“What? I thought you were healing just fine, they said it wasn’t infected or anything.” His face was creased with concern. He had a very kind face. Now Frank felt kinda bad for being a salty asshole.

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine. I just meant, ya know-” He gestured lamely.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Kidnappings will do that, I guess. Not a whole lot of places to go.”

“Not really, no. And I’ve always had itchy feet,” he sighed.

“I’m…sorry? What the hell?”

“It’s just a stupid saying,” Frank shrugged. “Moved around a lot as a kid, never been good at staying in one place. It makes me go a little crazy.

Ray didn’t look particularly convinced. Frank knew he was an idiot for throwing circus slang into a regular conversation, but sometimes it just slipped out! 

“Well, I have a decent sized collection of metal records in my room if you ever need to headbang it out.”

“Oh. Huh, well thanks man, I might have to take you up on that. I didn’t realize you, like, lived here.”

“Yeah! Yeah, only a handful of people do but I’m right down the hall from Mikey, been living here since I was a kid actually. Always been a part of the family and all.”

“Huh.” Frank was definitely going to have to take him up on his offer. “I’ll have to hit you up, thanks for the invite…”

“Oh! Ray, my name’s Ray.”

“Nice to meet you Ray,” Frank said with a wide grin.

Frank started spending a lot of time kicking it with Ray over the next few days. It was a million times better than he could have ever imagined. Not only did it give him an excuse to be hanging around Mikey’s room without arousing suspicion, but Ray was actually cool as fuck.

For one, his record collection genuinely kicked ass. And he had not one but several different guitars. Frank hadn’t played in years, he’d gotten so caught up in the whole Batman thing that he didn’t really have time for hobbies, but he loved the feeling of having a guitar in his hands again.

He didn’t attempt to make any moves on the detonator yet. He needed to be patient. Mikey was still suspicious of his newfound willingness to cooperate, and he needed a better window of opportunity. So he waited, cozying up to Ray and trying not to push Gerard away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'd think I'd be updating more with the whole quarantine thing, huh? I had to move very suddenly so the past few weeks have been a bit of a blur, but I have a clear idea of where this story is going and plenty of time stretched out ahead of me. Hopefully that will translate into more frequent updates but really who can be sure. These are trying times.


	10. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard wants to celebrate their one month anniversary, Frank is skeptical.

Not that Gerard made it easy. He kept pestering Frank about what he wanted to do for their one-month anniversary. And it’s not that Frank had even remotely forgotten how many days he’d been stuck with the Ways, not by a long shot. He just didn’t see it as something to celebrate. But the bastard wouldn’t let it go.

Finally, after a week long campaign that enlisted Mikey and even Ray, Frank threw up his hands.

“Fine! Fucking hell, fine I’ll go out with you.”

Gerard giggled and pecked him on the edge of his frown. “It’s gonna be fun, Frankie. Promise. You’ll see.”

All in all, Frank had to admit that it wasn’t the worst thing ever. After training practically every day, he could confidently say that he had gotten all his strength back in his leg. Maybe getting out of the house would give him a chance to quietly slip away. Surely Gerard wouldn’t blow up the entire zip code if he was long gone before he noticed.

Right?

On the morning of their anniversary things were actually looking pretty sunny for Frank. He was crouched around the corner from Gerard’s office, thankful for the slightly cracked door that let his conversation with Mikey drift out into the hall.

“This is stupid. He’s probably gonna bolt the second you leave the compound.”

“C’mon Mikes, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“This whole settling in bullshit is an act. He’s clearly trying to play you, Gee.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Frank cringed. Unfortunately, he was still predictable. “But I can handle him, Mikey. I know I can. He’s not going anywhere.”

“You should at least bring Ray with you. Going out without your bodyguard is dumb enough without Frank in the equation, especially with what’s going down.”

“Nothing’s going down,” Gerard snapped. “We haven’t made our move yet. They have no idea we’re gunning for them.”

Mikey sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if you die, I’m not clearing your browser history.”

“That’s low, Mikey. Real low.”

Frank scrambled back down the hall, narrowly ducking out of Mikey’s path as he left the office. As his heart slowly returned to its normal rhythm, he pondered what he’d learned. The fact that Gerard knew he had something in the works was going to complicate things. But he’d also insisted that they go alone, without the goon squad. That could tip things in his favor.

What he really wanted to know was if Gerard planned on bringing the detonator. He was plenty confident he could take him in single combat, but he wasn’t about to risk instigating a fight if Gerard could whip out the little red button and instantly tip the scales in his favor. His own life was whatever but Frank generally wasn’t big on gambling with the lives of millions of innocent people. 

Even though he’d agreed to go, Frank still grumbled as Gerard bustled them out into a car. The sky was just starting to purple, dipping towards dusk.

“Ok seriously, tell me where we’re going.” Frank crossed his arms stubbornly.

“Not a chance. You didn’t wanna pick which means it’s my surprise.” He shut the driver’s side door behind him. “Besides, you’ll see soon enough.”

“Did I ever tell you I hate surprises?” Frank grumbled. Despite his attitude he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a soft breath when the car rolled out of the gates. If Gerard noticed he didn’t say anything.

Right as the dusk was beginning to gather as the last slivers of sunlight slid beneath the horizon, they rolled up to a big dirt lot.

“A drive through? You brought me to a drive through?”

Gerard grinned. “They’re showing a double feature of Dawn of the Dead and Bram Stroker’s Dracula. You like classic horror, don’t you?”

“I… Uh, yeah, I guess.” Frank fidgeted. He wasn’t expecting him to pick something he’d actually like. 

“C’mon, we can stretch out in the truck bed.”

Gerard had brought a frankly ridiculous number of pillows and a handful of fluffy blankets to fight off the cool September night. It wasn’t quite late enough in the year to be cold but they were getting there. Frank settled back uncertainly. He was supposed to be the one catching Gerard off guard, but he couldn’t stop from chewing on his lip ring nervously.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of candy you like so I bought a whole bunch,” he brandished an equally ridiculous bulging bag of snacks.

Frank snorted. “All those creepy photos and you don’t know what kind of candy I like? Wow, you’re not a very good stalker.” He snatched the bag out of his hands and dug through it until he found a box of red hots.

“Really?” Gerard wrinkled his nose.

“What? They’re delicious,” he said defensively.

“Next you’re gonna tell me you love black licorice and clam chowder.” He poked at Frank’s stomach.

“Ow, hey! Vegan, remember!”

“Yes, I’m sure vegan clam chowder is even worse,” he nodded seriously.

“Fucker. You don’t see me judging your candy choice.” Frank giggled before he even knew what was happening. Fuck. He needed to focus. He wasn’t here to watch movies; he was here to melt into the shadows like the bat kid he was. Or used to be. Whatever.

It was hard not to enjoy the first movie. Dawn of the Dead had always been one of his all-time favorites. But rather than enjoying the gore, he was preoccupied trying to scope out the exits. There was a skinny strip of woods behind the fence at the left edge of the lot. The fence that was right behind the bathrooms. That was it. He could easily lose Gerard in the shadows, climb a tree, and wait until he gave up looking.

Ok, so it wasn’t a great plan. It was barely even a plan. His mind flashed with a thousand ways it could go wrong. But it was all he had, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try. For now, he relaxed into Gerard, letting his head drift towards his shoulder and hoping it would be enough to dispel any suspicions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, we in some quarantine depression, huh? But rest assured, this fic is not abandoned. I struggled to get some of the slow burn elements down because I wanted to be subtle but anyways. Leave a comment with your best coping mechanism, mine is rewatching Birds of Prey like every two days.


	11. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get complicated for Frank and Gerard at the drive through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: this chapter has the f slur in it and some (attempted) homophobic bullying

As soon as the credits began to roll, Frank was on his feet and excusing himself. Gerard didn’t look concerned in the slightest, just stretching slightly and nodding. He cut a hard line across the lot trying his best to keep his pace casual.

There were small clusters of people stretching their legs between the cars. It was mostly teenagers. Frank veered slightly to avoid passing through a cluster of hard-headed looking jock types.

“Hey! Hey, little fag!” they called after him. He so did not need this right now.

He kept his pace, resisting the fierce snarl of rage that gathered in his stomach. It lurched towards the surface jaws snapping when a crumpled soda can hit the back of his head, but he held tight to the beast’s leash. He was not going to blow the best window he’d had in a month over some bigoted idiots without one brain cell between them. Frank was better than that.

As he tracked their footsteps behind him, he began to rethink his game plan. If they were willing to follow him a confrontation was likely inevitable. He was going to have to shoot for quick and quiet and cross his fingers.

Bruce was always lecturing him that crossing your fingers doesn’t constitute a strategy. Well, what the hell does Bruce know anyways?

He figured his best chance at containing the fight was to get them all into the bathroom. The confined space would work to his advantage since there were five of them and one of him, and the lack of witnesses was also a plus.

He stood at one of the sinks, methodically washing his hands. Waiting. He heard the last of them troop inside. As if on cue, he felt a meaty hand clap down on his shoulder.

“Hey faggot, I’m talking to yo-” 

Frank yanked him forward and slammed his skull against the sink. He slumped to the floor, out cold.

He turned around to face the others. “Didn’t your mothers ever teach you to watch your fucking language?” 

Their leader was already down and Frank could feel the unease swirling through the air. They glanced at each other unsure, but eventually they began to creep forward again. After all, they thought their numbers would still give them the advantage.

The first kid to come in range got a viper-quick strike to the nose. He could feel the bone crunch beneath his fist. He ducked a clumsy swing from the big lumbering one and popped up on the other side, kicking the other one’s head into the tile wall. Two down, two to go, and as a bonus no one had come rushing in. Things were going well for him for a change.

The big one grabbed him from behind, wrestling his arms behind his back. Frank tensed, getting ready to break his grip. The fact that he was 6’3” was hardly a concern. Taking down bigger guys was just part of the job.

Before he could make his move, he felt body behind him get yanked back. He turned around in confusion to see Gerard all over him. Before he had a chance to process this turn of events, he caught a good solid crack to the jaw. Shit, he’d almost forgotten about the last little fucker.

The kid was no match for Frank. He lunged, feinting right and swinging left. He was clearly a scrapper and this was not his first fight, he had to give him that, but he didn’t know he was fighting a professional. It didn’t take long.

He turned back to Gerard. He was not prepared to see him withdraw a wicked looking little knife from the big kid’s stomach. He rushed forward, catching the kid around his shoulder and trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Jesus, fuck. What the hell did you do?” He couldn’t tell how many times he’d stabbed him but he knew it was too many. Far too many.

Gerard snorted, wiping the blade off on his jeans. “Don’t tell me you’re going to flip over a gigantic asshole like that.”

“We need to call an ambulance. He’s just a kid, he can’t-”

“Don’t be stupid. This is Bludhaven, there’s no way they’d get here in time if they even came at all.”

He could feel him weakening beneath his grip. There was so much blood, blood everywhere. It wasn’t exactly the first time he’d seen a man die but Frank was always sickened by the amount of blood in the human body.

“He attacked you. That means he got what he deserved.”

“No.” No, no, no. “I can’t let him die. I have to do something.” There was so much blood. So much blood on his hands. He could never get it off.

“Frankie, be reasonable. He’s already gone.”

Gerard was right. He gave the kid a light tap on the chest and he collapsed in a heap of twisted limbs. It was wrong, all of this was wrong.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like there’s cameras…” Gerard went on but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears.

Frank fell to his knees.

Iero’s don’t fall. That’s what his mom first told him when she decided he was old enough to start learning the swings. He’d been begging for months when she finally relented, his dad laughing and kissing her on her worried frown.

He started on the rings before graduating to a miniature trapeze rig (in record time, he might add). His dad made him do rigorous foundation drills every single day. It was terribly boring, but Frank kept his head down and practiced for hours upon hours. He wanted to start planning a routine with one of his older cousins. He wanted a partner.

The day that they finally decided he was ready his mom had brought him up to the top of their performance platform. Although he’d long since been working at that height, it somehow seemed dizzying in a way it never had before with the whole expanse of empty stands stretched out around them.

“What are we doing up here?” he asked, worried.

“Just watch.”

He saw his father on the other platform, swing in hand.

“When you work with a partner, you have to trust them. Out on the swings, you are two parts of one mind.”

He chewed on his lip. “What if he doesn’t catch you? What if you fall?”

She laughed, loud and bright. “Iero’s don’t fall.”

And with that she was pushing off, hurtling towards the middle of the big top without a second thought. He saw her release her swing and for one beautiful and terrifying moment, she hung suspended, floating high in the air with nothing but emptiness between her and the ground. Until his dad caught her in a strong grip and they sailed through the air together.

It was like everything finally made sense to Frank. He never had trouble with nerves after that day, confident that something so crude as gravity could never interfere. He was an Iero, after all. And Iero’s don’t fall.

After the accident, it was all he could hear. Her laugh rang in his ears, her voice calm and sure. “Iero’s don’t fall.” Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her outstretched hand. He woke up in the middle of the night, hand outstretched into nothingness, tears staining his face, mouth twisted into an inaudible scream.

The image of their bodies splayed out on the floor of the ring made it into every paper but Frank hardly remembered. He just saw the outstretched hand, saw it slip away. Forever eluding him, haunting his every move.

He hardly remembered anything after the accident. It was like one day he woke up in Wayne Manor, like he was waking up from a coma. Haley’s Circus had already moved on without him. The funeral had been delayed until they would be back in town to bury them properly.

Bruce said he could help. He said he could help channel his pain, his rage. He was wrong. Something broke in Frank that day, something he didn’t think could ever be fixed. Maybe that’s why he fucked everything up so badly with his last partner. He couldn’t trust anyone else to keep him aloft.

Gerard yanked him up by the elbow, pulling him back into the present moment.

“C’mon, we gotta get outta here. Don’t wanna be hanging around when they find our friend over there.”

Frank blinked rapidly, trying to set his head right. He took one last look at the dead teenager before turning towards the door. There wasn’t anything he could do for him now. He needed to worry about himself.

He felt an immense flood of relief when the cool night air hit his face. It was pitch black out. He could easily evade Gerard. Finally, finally this nightmare would be over. Gerard was a few steps in front of him, he might not even notice until Frank was long gone.

He broke into a sprint in the opposite direction, clearing the fence in one graceful leap. A wild laugh ripped from his lungs as he swung up and flipped into the darkness of the trees. He heard Gerard howling his name but he didn’t hesitate. He flitted from tree to tree, cutting a random convoluted path deep into the woods.

The dry leaves brushed against his face. His blood was singing as he whirled through the air. This is what he was made for, he could feel it in his bones. He felt invincible.

Eventually he forced himself to slow. He’d gone pretty far, surely there was no way he’d been followed. Now he needed to find a nice leafy tree with plenty of cover to hunker down and wait for Gerard to give up looking. He wound up perching on a wide and comfy Y in the branches of a big sturdy tree. He had to be at least five stories up. A tiny sliver of moonlight slipped through the leaves. Frank leaned   
his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes, feeling something akin to calm.

His serene mood was promptly smashed by a familiar nasally voice.

“Frankie, you up there?”

Impossible, he thought. Completely impossible. There’s no way he should’ve been able to track him, unless…

“You had them stick a tracker in me when they pulled the bullet out, didn’t you?”

“Maybe. You gonna come down? Or should I go get my chain saw?”

Frank groaned and banged his head against the trunk. He should’ve known. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. The little fucker seemed to know him awfully well considering that he didn’t really know him at all.

“I dunno, don’t really wanna if I’m being honest.”

“Aw, come on Frankie. I’ll buy you vegan pancakes. And if you come down now, we might make it back before the sick scene where he travels to London in the coffin.”

Frank sighed. He still didn’t want to but he’d already been caught. And that was a pretty cool scene. He only hesitated for a moment before giving up his perch and flipping down to the ground.

Gerard grinned at him as he grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards the light of the drive through. The moonlight reflected off his slick black hair, making his skin look even paler in the dim light. His eyes glinted gleefully as he giggled.

“Mikey owes me 20 bucks,” he said, completely out of nowhere.

“Why does Mikey owe you 20 bucks?”

“We had a bet. He thought you would try to kill me, but I knew you’d try to run. You’ve got a wild side to you, Frankie.”

He snorted and shook his head. “I don’t kill people.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sanctimonious super hero, I know. I tried to tell Mikey but he’s convinced you have a dark side.”

Frank’s stomach pitched. There’s no way Mikey knew anything. That would be impossible. No one knew. Well, no one outside the family anyways.

Gerard finally dropped his hand as he hopped back over the fence. There were a couple of patrol cars posted up around the stout white building of the bathrooms, lights flashing.

“Fuck,” Gerard cursed. “Fuck, ok. Can you get back to the truck without anyone seeing you? I have a spare set of clothes in the cab.”

At first, he didn’t realize what he was talking about but then Frank remembered oh, yeah, I’m totally covered in that kid’s blood. Luckily it was still dark enough in the parking lot that it wouldn’t be too much of a challenge.

“Yeah, I can. What about you?”

He rolled his eyes. “I can just walk past them because I didn’t take a bath in anybody’s blood. Just go, now, before anyone looks this way.”

He gave him a shove in the other direction. Frank dove into where the shadows were deepest, carving a wide arc around the cops. He ducked in between the cars, rolling underneath them whenever someone passed. It was kind of slow going because everyone wanted to see what was up but he made his way back eventually.

He opened the back door a crack and rolled into the seat staying as low as possible. Gerard was up in the driver’s seat, wordlessly chucking a pair of clothes back at him. He did his best to wiggle into the jeans and shrug on the t shirt without sitting up too much. He balled up his bloody clothes and shoved them as far under the seat as he could before sitting up.

“You good?” Gerard asked breathlessly. He sounded worried.

“Uh, yeah. Think so. Thanks for the clothes.”

“Anytime. Wanna watch the rest of the movie or would you rather just go?”

He glanced behind him towards the screen. They hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet. 

“Might as well stay,” he shrugged. 

As Frank went to climb up into the back of the truck after him, Gerard broke out into a fit of giggles.

“What?” Frank snapped.

He was too far gone to answer but he gestured vaguely towards his chest. Frank looked down to see his borrowed t shirt had a faded bat signal printed on the front.

“Oh, fuck you.” He flipped him off before plopping down and starting to roll up Gerard’s comically long jeans.

“Aw I think you look cute, Frankie.”

He felt his face heat up. Hopefully it was dark enough that Gerard wouldn’t notice his teasing was getting to him.

“Whatever. Where’d you hide all the candy?”

They spent the rest of the movie curled up under the blankets, warm and comfortable. They even breezed through the police barricade on the way out.

“Nuh uh,” Frank said when he saw Gerard start to turn back towards the house. “You owe me pancakes, remember?”

He shot him a look. “And you wanna go now?”

“Hell yeah I wanna go now. I’m hungry. What, you guys don’t have 24-hour diners down the river?”

Gerard looked at him for a long moment before breaking into a smile. “Yeah, alright. I know a place that’s not far.”

Frank settled back into his seat. “Well alright then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Harley would say, yeesh-ka-bab that is childhood trauma right there. Should I be worried that it was way easier for me to write all of that than the three lines of non-hostile dialogue in the last chapter?


	12. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Gerard take a dip into Frank's troubled past over midnight diner coffee.

Frank began devouring his second stack of pancakes. They were the only ones in the little diner except for the bored looking waitress. He had to admit that they had the best homemade syrup he’d ever tasted in his life.

“Hey Frankie, can I ask you a question?” Gerard said from behind his coffee.

Frank eyed him warily. They hadn’t spoken much since they left the drive through. “Depends on what it is.”

“It’s just… well, I kind of thought Batman would’ve shown up by now. To, like, come and get you.” His face seemed earnest.

“Yeah, well, we aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment,” he said sourly.

“Really? It was that bad when you left?”

Frank stabbed at the pancakes. “I doubt he’ll ever want to see me again.”

“Wh- What happened?” Gerard’s voice was tentative. Concerned, even.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe not. But you can talk to me. You can always talk to me, Frank.”

He was glaring at the table. It wasn’t a pretty story and it certainly didn’t make Frank look too good. But then again, there wouldn’t be any judgement from the guy who just stabbed a teenager to death. Everyone else in his life, all his friends, were masked vigilantes of one sort or another. He would crumble under the weight of their condemnation. He didn’t have anyone else he could tell.  
Frank scrubbed a hand over his eyes and took a hard swig of his coffee. He could not believe he was doing this.

“My parents were killed in front of me. It was a mob hit. Batman took me in, promised me that we could find their killer. Bring him to justice.” He paused, his knuckles turning white from the death grip he had on his fork.

“You couldn’t find him?” Gerard asked softly.

“Oh no, we found him,” he laughed humorlessly. “That was no problem for the world’s greatest detective. I spent years gathering evidence on him, enough to put him away for three lifetimes. Except when he was arrested, he squealed on the entire Maroni crime family. Got him a nice deal in WITSEC too. He wasn’t going to serve a second of jail time.”

His eyes flashed. “That doesn’t sound like justice to me.”

“Me neither. But it was out of my hands. He wouldn’t even tell me where they were planning on hiding him.”

“But why? You deserve to avenge your parents,” he insisted.

Frank just shook his head. “Batman doesn’t believe in vengeance, only justice. That’s his code.”

“So, you’re not speaking because he’s being an asshole and standing between you and the man who murdered your parents? That’s certainly understandable.”

“Oh, no. That’s not why he won’t speak with me. I went behind his back. I found out when the bastard was being transferred out of GCPD custody. I… I don’t know why, but I had to be there. I couldn’t-” he faltered, searching for some explanation. “It couldn’t end like that. I devoted ten years of my life to bringing him in. I had to be there.”

“Of course,” Gerard nodded sympathetically.

“The armored caravan was crossing the bridge out of the city when it was ambushed. I don’t know how the hell Maroni could’ve raised those kinds of numbers but the whole road was swimming with them.”

“What happened?”

“They dragged the rat out of the van, killed every guard along the way. And then they beat him to death and hung the body over the bridge, as a warning to anyone else who might think about snitching.”

There was a long pause. “…And?”

“And what?”

“I don’t get it. Why would Batman be mad at you?”

Frank gaped at him. “Because I sat there. I watched it happen and I did nothing.”

“So? It’s not like you’re the one who killed him,” Gerard shrugged.

“I might as well have!” he all but shrieked. “I could’ve easily saved his life but I didn’t. I let him die. It was my fault.”

“This is ridiculous. You’re telling me that he’s pissed because you didn’t save the life of the man you by all rights should have killed yourself? Seriously? That’s what all this is about?”

He shook his head. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t even look at me when I came back to the cave. I told him I was moving out the next morning and we haven’t spoken since.”

“Yeah, you were right. I sure as hell don’t understand. But for the record, not saving someone is not the same as killing them. Believe me, I’ve killed enough to know the difference.”

Frank pushed his plate away. “That’s about the only thing I do believe.”

Something wasn’t settling right. He knew he should feel sick to his stomach, but he didn’t. What Gerard said made sense. As much as he hated to agree with him, it made sense. He certainly didn’t feel evil, no matter what Batman thought. He felt guilty, sure, but he was raised Catholic. He felt guilty about everything.

“Let’s just get out of here. I’ve had enough reminiscing for a while.”

The cool night wind caressed his face on the ride home as an old rock song crackled over the radio. Frank felt oddly at peace with himself, like his insides had untwisted themselves for the first time in a very very long time. Which was ridiculous. Truly and deeply ridiculous. Gerard was insane. He didn’t need his pity and he certainly didn’t need his validation.

But he still caught himself smiling up at the moonlight.

Mikey was sprawled out on the couch when they stumbled in the front door. He took one look at them and asked in a disinterested tone, “Alright, who did you kill?”

Gerard started laughing. Frank, to his surprise, couldn’t stop himself from joining in. What the hell was wrong with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but hopefully it's sweet enough to make up for it. Anyways, happy pride and fuck cops forever.


	13. Getting Warmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Mikey spend some quality time together. Chaos ensues.

Frank cracked his eyes open. An involuntary groan ripped from his chest. His head felt like it was filled with cotton balls. He hobbled out of bed towards the kitchen, shrugging on his hoodie as he went. He was freezing. Fuck. This was not good.

“Frankie? That you?” Gerard called as he stumbled past his office.

“Yeah,” he croaked. His voice was thick. “Aw fuck this, man. Fu-” A heavy cough racked his body until he was gasping for air. “Fucking hell.”

Gerard suddenly appeared at his side, face creased into a frown. “What happened? Are you ok?”

“’M fine,” he slurred. “Getting sick I think.” He continued walking towards the kitchen, Gerard following worriedly behind.

“Maybe you should go back to bed.”

“I said I’m fine,” he irritably shrugged him off. “You got any cold meds?”

“Umm, I’ll have to look. Can I get you anything else? Soup? A doctor?”

“Jesus, I’m not dying. Just get me the non-drowsy stuff and I’ll be better in no-” Another coughing fit cut him off. “No time. Fuck.”

Frank spent the rest of the day huddled on the sofa under two hoodies and a blanket waiting for the fever to break. Gerard drifted in periodically but he did his best to shoo him away. He didn’t need someone wringing their hands over him constantly.

Sometime after lunch Mikey wandered in. 

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. He certainly felt like shit.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

Frank gaped at him. “You mean I’ve been stuck here for weeks and you’re just now telling me you guys have a TV?”

Mikey lifted a bony shoulder. “Dad doesn’t like ‘em, says it’ll rot your brain, but I have one stashed in my room. You coming or not?”

He sat straight up. A chance to watch TV and scope out Mikey’s room? It must be fucking Christmas. “Hell yeah, I’m coming.”

Mikey’s room was almost as big as Gerard’s and infinitely cooler. He had a futon and a PS4 hooked up to a massive flatscreen. Frank immediately flopped down and recreated his blanket nest.

“Now I understand why you’re always holed up in here, Mikeyway.”

He ignored him completely. “I was gonna watch Raiders of the Lost Arc but we can find something else if you want.” 

“Indiana Jones sounds awesome. I’m totally down.”

“I’m going to get some popcorn, you want anything?”

“Uh, just another water. Thanks.”

Mikey hovered by the door for a second, debating something. “You can look if you want but it’s not in here. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get disease all over everything.”

Frank schooled his features into a mask of innocence. “What’s not in here?” he asked, knowing damn well he was talking about the detonator. 

“Right. Just put my stuff back where you found it.”

He still jumped up to search the room as soon as the footsteps retreated down the hallway but now he felt kind of bad about it. Mikey could be bluffing, and even if he wasn’t there might be something else useful. 

Frank could have jumped for joy when he turned over the closet. He found his utility belt folded neatly on what could only be described as a truly worrying amount of Bat merchandise shoved in the back corner behind all his dress shirts. Unfortunately, he couldn’t snatch it now because he would never get away with that. But he had learned two valuable things: first, that Mikey was keeping it and second, that he was a massive fan. 

Frank had to stifle a giggle as he carefully rearranged the clothes and lay back down on the futon. This really was his lucky day.

The cold disappeared as suddenly as it came on. Within a few days, Frank was back to vaulting over furniture and bouncing off the walls of the gym. But the movie nights in Mikey’s room became more of a regular thing. It was kind of ridiculous how much he enjoyed them, even if he was still just trying to work the detonator out of Mikey. Sometimes Ray would even hang out too if he wasn’t on a shift. 

It was one of those nights, a week or so later, when the three of them were settling in to watch Spinal Tap. It was absolutely imperative once Frank and Ray found out that Mikey had never seen the much-loved cult classic. Of course Ray had a copy, he wasn’t a monster.

“Ow, fucker, move your legs,” Frank flicked a kernel of popcorn at Mikey’s head, trying to make space for himself on the sofa.

“Sorry, we can’t all be midgets,” he sniffed.

Ray snorted. “Is that why they put you in the freakshow?”

“On behalf of all little people, I take offense to that language. And we didn’t even have a freakshow, you asshole.” Frank shoved at his shoulder with the sole of his foot.

“Whatever you say, shortstack.”

They hadn’t even gotten through the opening credits when there was some commotion down the hall.

Ray paused it. “Do you hear that?”

Frank tilted his head. “It sounds like Gerard yelling at someone.”

A pause.

“Someone should probably go see what’s up,” Mikey shrugged.

“Not it,” Frank and Ray said in unison.

Mikey groaned. “You guys suck, you know that?”

Before he could finish disentangling his limbs from the pile of blankets and people, a wild-eyed Gerard burst into the room yelling, “Mikey, it’s Frank, he’s-”

He cut off when his eyes landed on Frank, who put up his hands.

“Wasn’t me.”

“…right here. But I-” Gerard turned looking back out the door in confusion. “I thought- You were just-”

Mikey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gee, could you try talking in full sentences? What the hell is going on?”

“I just got a live news alert. From Gotham. Look.”

He sat on the floor, pulling out his phone. They all leaned in to see shaky helicopter footage of what looked like Batman fighting Killer Croc. Batman and…

“Robin?” said Ray in utter disbelief. “But, that’s not possible, he’s been here all night.”

“Do you have a clone?” Mikey asked. “Because that would be totally sick if Batman had cloned you.”

Frank scowled. “No, you idiot, I don’t have a clone.”

“Well then who is it?” asked Gerard.

Frank huffed and crossed his arms. “I haven’t been Robin in over a year. His name is Jason.”

“Huh.” Gerard shut off the feed. “I’m sorry for bursting in, I thought you had… left.”

Frank laughed. “Trust me, when I finally get out of here, I won’t be going back to Gotham.”

“Wait, over a year? I thought you like just moved to Bludhaven,” asked Mikey.

“Yeah, I was supposed to start college last year but uh, I kind of got sucked into infiltrating this international spy ring. It was, like, a whole thing.” He flapped his hand dismissively.

“Ok, dude, I gotta ask,” Ray said leaning forward. “Being Robin sounds like the coolest gig ever, but you always talk about it like it was torture. Was it really all that bad?”

Frank picked at a hole in his jeans, not making eye contact. “Well, no. Not exactly. But it wasn’t as great as it sounds either. The reality was… a lot more complicated than what you see on TV, I guess.”

“Was it fun? Because it definitely looks fun.”

He smiled to himself almost shyly. “Sometimes. Especially when I was working solo or with the Titans. There’s nothing more satisfying than completing a mission, even if you totally got your ass kicked.”

“What’s Batman like?” Mikey asked.

“What’s he like? Uh, he takes himself way too seriously and when he’s made up his mind to do something, he’ll stop at nothing. Dude cannot take a joke to save his life.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t look up to him more.”

“Oh, I used to. But you guys don’t really know him, I mean the real him. There’s nothing particularly heroic about that, I promise you.”

“Did he ever let you drive the Batmobile?” asked Gerard, trying to lighten the mood.

Frank laughed at that. “No, absolutely not. Are you kidding? He would have an aneurysm.” 

“Seriously? You’ve never driven the Batmobile? But that’s the coolest part!” said Mikey.

“Oh no, I’ve driven it. He just didn’t exactly let me. And yeah, it is cool as hell.”

“I can’t believe you carjacked the Batmobile!” Ray squeaked.

“Hey, he’s the one who encouraged me to become a hacker. So really if you think about it that’s permission in and of itself.”

“You know what’s never made sense to me, how did you have time to do all that crime fighting shit? Didn’t you have school?” Ray asked.

“Oh sure, and he never let me skip no matter how late we were out on patrol. I pretty much existed solely on caffeine and afternoon naps. Unless somebody shot me, in which case I got an automatic two days off. That was pretty awesome.”

“Awesome? You think getting shot was awesome?” Gerard said disbelieving.

“Well, not the getting shot part. But it’s like the sidekick version of a snow day so it automatically rules,” Frank shrugged.

“That makes no fucking sense.”

“I was like ten, okay. Nobody makes sense at ten,” he said defensively.

“Man, how did you make it through high school?” Mikey shook his head.

“Cheating mostly. And a lot of make-up work.”

“You must’ve had no time for friends, that had to have sucked,” said Ray.

“Nope, none at all. The only friends I really had were other masks, like Wonder Girl and Kid Flash. Which is partly what made the Titans so fun.”

“Ok, I need your opinion,” Mikey said seriously, pushing up his glasses on his nose. “Of all the supervillains that you fought on a regular basis, which one was your favorite?”

“Hm,” Frank paused thoughtfully. “Not counting Harley, I’d probably have to go with the Riddler.”

“What? Dude, the Riddler is so lame. I can’t believe you didn’t pick the Joker.”

“Fighting the Joker is the worst though. That’s always when the most civilians get killed. Kind of a downer.”

“What about King Shark?” asked Ray. “He’s so frickin cool.” 

“Ugh,” Frank made a face. “You’ve fought a killer man-shark once, you’ve fought him a thousand times. Absolutely no originality.”

“Why are we not counting Harley Quinn?” asked Gerard curiously.

“Oh, she kind of went to med school with Batman so she’s like, always around the Bat Cave.”

Mikey’s jaw dropped. “Batman went to med school?”

“Technically Batman dropped out of med school but yeah, a long time ago.”

“Dude, your life is so weird.” 

“Yep, no arguments there. Now can we please watch this fucking masterpiece of cinematic history?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much quicker upload thank god. Comment your favorite Batman villain or cuss out Frank's choice, whatever you feel like.


	14. Punching Bags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Gerard and training

Frank was pissed. At himself, mostly, but also at just everything. He whacked the punching bag harder, scowling.

He didn’t know why he kept fucking talking to them. First telling Gerard about his parents’ killer, and then last night when he told them about Robin. This was not normal for Frank. He was raised by the most stoic bastard on the planet. He never fucking talks about himself. Hell, that’s why Starfire broke up with him.

So why can’t he keep his trap shut around Gerard?

It didn’t make any sense. He was sick of thinking about it, turning the conversations over in his head again and again trying to make sense of them. That’s why he’d opted for hacking away at the bags instead of swinging on the beautiful new bars Gerard had installed in the gym for him. The bars were for thinking, the bags were for forgetting.

He spun and kicked it hard, sending the bag careening into the ceiling. The workout wasn’t making him feel better which only compounded his frustration.

“Careful, you might bring the whole house down.”

Frank jumped. “Wh- What are you doing here?” Gerard never came down here.

He shrugged. “I needed a break and I could hear you hammering away down here. Thought you might want a sparring partner.”

Frank shook his head. “No.”

A look of hurt flashed across Gerard’s features for an instant. Maybe Frank said it harsher than he’d meant to. Then he wanted to kick himself. Why should he care about how Gerard feels?

“You sure? I would’ve thought you’d love the opportunity to beat the shit out of me,” he joked, recovering quickly.

Frank did. Or, he thought he did. He should, anyways.

He turned away. “I’m busy.”

“C’mon, quit beating the poor defenseless punching bag. Pick on someone your own size.”

Without warning, Frank whirled around and clipped Gerard in the jaw. If he was going to offer him the chance to take out his aggression on the one person causing it, Frank was sure as hell going to make him regret it.

Gerard grunted in surprise but recovered quickly. He’d obviously been trained. Frank kept coming, ignoring Bruce’s voice in his head telling him to slow down, single out weaknesses, wait for the perfect opportunity, and then strike.

It was an artless, aggressive scrap. He had Gerard largely on the defensive as he jabbed relentlessly forward. Frank knew he was only going to make things worse, but it felt so damn good to let go of his careful restraint and give in to his instincts.

He didn’t resurface from the red haze of anger until he kicked Gerard hard in the middle, sending him flying into a rack of weights that teetered dangerously.

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Frank hovered, unsure of what to do when Gerard stayed down.

“’S fine,” he groaned, getting to his feet. “Probably my fault for baiting you. Pretty stupid in retrospect.”

The way he was holding himself told Frank he’d bruised some ribs. Not to mention the black eye that was slowly blooming. Mikey was so gonna kill him.

“Here, lemme…” Frank awkwardly wrapped his arm around Gerard’s back to give him something to lean on.

It was weird, supporting Gerard. Cleaning up his knuckles. Helping him ice his ribs. It wasn’t anything that Frank hadn’t done a million times with any of the Titans, but huddled on the floor of the cold bathroom his head was swooping with the closeness of it. His fingertips brushed Gerard’s shoulder blade as he secured a bandage. They’d been sharing a bed for over a month, but Frank didn’t think he’d ever been as close to Gerard as he was in that moment.

It was like he was seeing Gerard for the first time. All of his features up close and in sharp relief. The way his dark lashes flared out over his pale cheeks when he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The sharp cut of his smile. His weird pointy little teeth. It was making Frank dizzy.

He rocked back on his heels, putting some space between them.

“That should be good for now. You might want to get your ribs looked at if the bruising doesn’t lighten up in a couple days.” His voice sounded strange in their little bubble of silent white tiles.

“You’re turn,” Gerard said.

“I’m fine,” Frank frowned.

He looked pointedly at the blood that was still sluggishly oozing from Frank’s cut up knuckles.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. It wasn’t worth picking a fight over.

Gerard bandaged his knuckles quickly and carefully, long pale fingers darting gracefully over his skin. Frank’s stomach dropped at the sheer… tenderness of it.

When he was done with his knuckles, he nudged at the hem of his shirt. “Lemme see.”

Frank laughed awkwardly. “I think you barely got a hit in on me, man. I’m fine.”

All Gerard had to do was raise an eyebrow before he was relenting. Jesus, when did he get so soft?

Pale fingertips fluttered over the bruises on his torso, carefully assessing the damage. Frank had broken his ribs enough to know that he was fine but something kept him anchored in place. He was frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi. 

And then the fingers brushed over the litter of scars on his side, a souvenir from Harvey Dent’s baseball bat when he was 10 and an unwelcome reminder of the first time Batman fired him. He inhaled sharply.

“What-”

Lightning fast, Frank’s hands flew up and shoved Gerard hard. He heard his head crack on the tiles but he was already out of the room. He heard a chorus of 'Frankie, wait' and 'I’m sorry' follow him up the stairs but he didn’t slow. He needed to be as far away as possible from stupid Gerard, with his stupid face and his stupid questions that Frank seemed powerless to resist.

Would he have told him? Finally opened up and shared that old hurt with someone? He honestly couldn’t say. Which is exactly why he couldn’t stay to find out.

He made a beeline for Mikey’s room. He knew must look crazy right now, his eyes wide and wild, running shirtless around the manor. But it hardly mattered. He knew exactly what he needed, and Mikey was the only one who could give it back.

He threw the door open without knocking.

“Dude, what the hell?” Mikey startled on the couch.

“I want my utility belt back. I know you have it.”

Mikey pushed his glasses up his nose and studied him carefully. “And what makes you think I would just give it to you?”

“I’ll trade you for it.”

Mikey snorted. “What could you possibly have that’s worth it to me?”

Frank paused. Was he really going to do this?

But then he remembered the way his head spun when Gerard had smiled at him. He had to get out of here, no matter the cost. Bruce would get over it eventually. Wouldn’t he?

“I can tell you Batman’s secret identity.”

He saw Mikey’s eyes light up. He knew he had him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short chapter! Things have been wild trying to do college during a global pandemic while my whole state is burning down. Which is to say this is NOT being abandoned, I'm just depressed.


End file.
